Dessert
by supercommpromises
Summary: When El teases Mike under the dinner table, he decides he needs to teach her a lesson about proper table etiquette. (Shameless smut, dom Mike, bathroom sex)


**_AN:_**

 ** _Sorry it's been a while guys. I forgot how much school sucks. This was a request someone left on one of my other stories that I liked. Dominant Mike is back, everybody._**

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Thanksgiving was the time of year when your family gathered around the table to share a delicious dinner and remember what they were thankful for. It was one of Mike's favorite holidays because his mom made her twice-a-year stuffing that was quite possibly one of his favorite foods of all time. His Uncle Dave visited too, his mom's brother who had never really settle down despite being his mid-thirties, and he would tell funny stories of his travels at the dinner table.

This year was even better, because the Byers had let El come over too, since Mike was away at college and she missed him terribly. Currently she was sitting next to him at the dinner table, smiling sweetly at his mother as they talked about the complexities of pie crust.

And he was sweating.

Not because the food was bad or anyone had asked him awkward questions, but because of the issue that was his girlfriend sitting next to him.

Or rather her hand, which was shoved into his crotch and casually stroking him through his dress pants under the table.

He had a bit of stuffing on his fork, staring down at it as he clenched his fist around the piece of silver cutlery, the pressure matching what she was currently doing to him. Glancing around, he prayed no one would notice. His dad and Uncle Dave were chatting about football scores or something, Holly was busy trying to get as many peas on the tines of her fork as possible, and El and his mother were chatting away like nothing was happening. Nancy and Steve were next to him and he prayed they wouldn't look over.

His dick was getting harder, straining against his pants, and he barely stifled a groan as she squeezed it with her hand. He glanced at her, noticing how she didn't even flinch or pause her conversation.

 _Fuck_.

His zipper unzipped as she coughed casually, hiding the noise, and suddenly her fingers were reaching _into_ his fucking pants, wrapping all the way around him. He jolted, unable to help it, his knee hitting the underside of the table with a thud.

"You okay, Mike?" Steve asked, leaning around Nancy to give him a look.

Mike smiled, trying not to scream. "Yeah, just uh, bit my cheek, heh."

His sister's boyfriend nodded with a sympathetic wince and went back to his food, but he could feel Nancy's gaze and tried to casually eat another bite of stuffing. Under the table, El was starting to pump her hand, somehow managing to keep her arm from moving at all above the table. Were her wrists made of cartilage or what?

He was biting his cheek for real now, wincing but trying to use the pain to distract from the fire that was building in his groin. She was so fucking good at this, it wasn't fair. He didn't stand a chance.

His fork was shaking in his hand and he put it down, trying to stifle a groan as she squeezed him harder, the pressure building. There was no way she was going to _actually_ try and make him—

"Michael? Are you listening?"

He snapped to attention, looking towards his mother, who was giving him an accusatory stare. El's hand mercifully slowed and he cleared his throat.

"S-Sorry, Mom. Um, what did you say?" he grinned nervously.

"Your uncle asked how your classes were going," Karen Wheeler's face was expectant. "Would you mind telling us?"

"Um, yeah, of course. I'm taking—" El's hand squeezed again and he choked, trying to hide it as a coughing fit. He didn't dare look over at her, trying to ignore it. "Sorry, um, I'm taking mostly general classes right now but in the spring I get to take—" She started pumping her hand again, the pressure suddenly back. "—I-I'm t-taking a Philosophy class that's um—ah!"

She'd tugged him and suddenly he couldn't take it, sweat beading on his forehead as he reached down and ripped her hand from his lap, leaping from his seat at the same time.

"I need to go to the bathroom sorry!" he yelped as he ran, not wanting anyone to see the massive bulge in the front of his pants. He disappeared out of the dining room, his footsteps thumping up the stairs followed by the sound of the bathroom door slamming shut.

He moved more quickly than they'd ever seen and everyone at the dinner table stared at each other in stunned silence, unsure how to process his sudden exit. Karen grabbed her napkin, face creasing in worry.

"Hm, that's unusual. I wonder if he's okay…" she made the motion to get up.

"I'll check!"

El was standing too, trying to smile innocently while looking concerned at the same time.

"He probably ate too much," she dimpled, the picture of sweet. "I'll go make sure he's okay and get him some water or something."

"But—" Karen started to protest.

"Don't get up, please. You already made the delicious food. I can deal with Mike."

She didn't give her time to argue as she too, fled the room, feeling suddenly anxious. She thought he would like it, a secret handjob, but maybe it had been too much. Tugging at her navy blue pleated skirt, she bit her lip, walking up the stairs, her stocking-covered feet quiet on the carpet.

The water was running and she knocked on the bathroom door.

"I'll be down in a few minutes, Mom!"

"Mike," she jiggled the handled. "It's me."

The lock clicked and then the door opened, a hand appearing and pulling her inside before she could say anything else and then shutting the door again. Mike was standing in front of her, his dress pants unbuttoned, like he was getting read to take care of the problem himself. He was glaring at her and she felt her heart sink.

"Mike, I'm sorry, that was—"

He crashed into her, pressing her against the bathroom door and kissing her so intensely she gasped. His hand grabbed her thigh, pulling it up against his hip as rubbed against her, pressing his erection right against her center.

Oh. Maybe he wasn't mad.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him desperately, all tongue and lips, feeling stupidly relieved. He grinded against her again and she moaned softly, feeling herself getting wet at his incessant rubbing.

Suddenly he pulled back, grabbing her shoulders and flipping her, so her front was pressed against the door. His body was heavy against hers, keeping her pinned their as he panted into her ear, pressing sloppy kisses against the back of her neck. They couldn't take too long and he seemed to realize that.

There was the tinkling sound of a belt buckle and then she felt the slick leather cinch around her wrist. He pulled her arms towards each other behind her back, shoving both of her wrists together before cinching the belt all the way and tying them together. She felt uncertain, this was new, and turned her head to try and look at him.

"Mike?"

"You're terrible, El. At the dinner table?" His voice was wolfish, making her prickle. "I think I need to teach you a lesson…"

He nibbled at her earlobe, breath hot in her ear as his voice dropped to a whisper.

"Are you okay with that?"

She relaxed a bit, realizing he wasn't necessarily going crazy or something. It was impossible to pretend like she wasn't incredibly turned on by his sudden dominance, but knowing he wasn't suddenly changing was a relief. Arching, she pressed her butt back against him, brushing his dick.

"Are you?" she challenged, giving him the go-ahead.

He didn't reply, instead grabbing her and walking backwards, sitting down on the toilet lid and pulling her over his lap. She grunted as she fell across him, unsure of what he was doing but willing to do anything at this point if it meant he would fuck her sooner than later. His hand pulled her skirt up, grabbing her panties and ripping them down her legs, exposing her ass to him.

"Keep quiet," he said gruffly and she frowned confused as to what he meant.

His hand slapped her across her ass and she nearly jolted out his lap, her hands straining against the belt that kept them uselesly behind her back. She gasped, taken by surprise, and nearly squeaked as he did it again.

"Shhh," he squeezed her ass almost apologetically. "Do you want my mom or dad to come up here and walk in on this?"

She could feel his erection pressing up against her stomach and whimpered, biting her lip and trying to prepare herself. He spanked her again and again, making her gasp and whimper and strain against him. She was soaking now, utterly aroused by his dominance, and squirmed against him as he pulled his hand back.

"Mike," she begged, "p-please."

"Please what?"

He wanted her to say it and she obliged gladly.

"Fuck me. _Please_ ," she pleaded. "I want you to fuck me."

"Is that why you were jacking me off under the table? Because you wanted this?"

"Yes," she whimpered.

Her ass cheeks were red and he grinned, liking how she sounded when she begged. He pushed her from his lap, standing and moving her so she was in front of the counter, facing the mirror that covered the wall behind the sink. She was powerless to make him do anything, her hands tied behind her back as he pressed up against her from behind, watching her face in the mirror.

He pressed kisses up her neck, being gentle after the spanking, wanting her to know he wasn't too mad. Whatever was coursing through his veins wasn't quite satisfied yet, and he grabbed her shoulders, shoving her down and bending her over the counter, so her cheek was pressed against the smooth surface.

She whimpered again, her only answer, trying to press her hips back against him.

"So eager," he observed, reaching down to slide his pants and underwear down. "I really don't deserve you, El."

His erection sprang free and he pressed up it against her ass, smiling as she groaned and bucked back against him. Reaching down, he ran his finger through her folds and felt his mouth drop open in shock at just how wet she was. Soaking, really.

He'd been a bit selfish so far, figuring he deserved some relief after what she'd done downstairs, but now he was realizing she was enjoying it just as much. Grinning he flipped her skirt up and bumped against her, lining himself up and pressing in just _barely_ , wanting to tease her like she'd teased him.

"El, look up," he demanded.

She did, meeting his eyes in the mirror, her lip raw from where she had been biting it to keep quiet, face desperate. She was so beautiful and sexy and perfect and he tried to take a mental picture of this moment, her bent over beneath him, looking like she would do anything he asked. Her mouth opened, like she was going to say something, but he didn't let her.

Grabbing her hips firmly, he pulled her back against him as he thrusted forward at the same time, completely burying himself inside of her in one stroke. They let out matching gasps and he watched the way her mouth gaped, the way her brow furrowed as he filled her.

"Mike," she gasped, his name sounding sacred on her tongue. "Please, Mike."

As much as he was trying to stay in control he couldn't refuse her, pulling back and thrusting again, letting out a low groan at how good she felt. No matter how often they had sex, he never grew tired of the feeling of being inside of her, of the euphoria of being joined, of the privilege of being closer than anyone else. His hips moved frantically fast, his fingers bruising her hips as he ruthlessly fucked her from behind, letting out all the the desperation he'd felt sitting at the table.

She arched her back and tilted her hips, trying to meet each stroke, her wrists straining against the confines of the belt, her fingers curling into her palms. It was like a sensation overload and he didn't bother being slow or gentle, because quite frankly, they didn't have time. It had already been a good five minutes and he knew his mom would come and check if they were gone more than ten.

He let go of her hip with one hand, reaching down and hooking it under her knee, tugging her leg up onto the counter so her hips tilted higher and she barely muffled the shriek that left her throat. Her eyebrows drew together and she panted, looking at him through the mirror with wide eyes. A good move, apparently.

Moving faster he _pounded_ her, holding her hips again as her entire body jolted against the counter, the bathroom filling with the sounds of her barely-smothered keening, his low grunts, and the sound of their skin colliding noisily.

Suddenly she arched, her hips lifting higher and she gasped before whimpering as her walls fluttered and then squeezed him so hard he almost saw stars. She collapsed onto the counter, cheek rubbing against the edge of the sink as he rutted into her, unable to use her hands to keep herself upright. It was a miracle he'd held out so long but her clamping walls made it impossible and he shoved himself as deep as he could go as he came, letting out a low, possessive growl as he spilled into her.

The running water covered the sounds of their panting and he felt her shift his hips below him as she moved her leg back down. He pulled away stickily and then leaned back against the counter as she stood up too.

"Mike, um," she turned her back to him, pointedly showing him her bound wrists. "Can you…?"

"Yeah, of course," he reached for his belt and uncinched it. "Um, so… was that okay? I kind of just went with it but if you didn't like it—"

She turned around rolling her shoulders to get feeling back into them, looking a little stiff. But she was smiling broadly, eyes sultry.

"I liked it," she stepped towards him. "A lot."

Her lips met his he sighed against her, feeling grateful for such an amazingly willing girlfriend who had literally just let him tie her up and fuck her in the bathroom during dinner. And Thanksgiving dinner no less. He set his hands on her hips again, pulling her close and feeling strangely selfish. The last thing he wanted to do was go back stairs and have to pretend like he hadn't just had some of the best sex of his life. Ideally he would prefer to cuddle the shit of her now, but he knew that wasn't possible.

There was a knock on the door and they both froze. Mike's pants were still around his ankles and El definitely looked disheveled.

"Mike? El?" It was Nancy's voice. "Are you okay?"

"I-I threw up," Mike yelled back. "Don't come in, it's gross."

They were both fumbling frantically, pulling on clothing and fixing hair. He turned off the sink and looked over at El, who was still flushed but wasn't obviously naked or anything. Turning to the door, he opened and faced the expectant face of his sister.

"I, uh, ate too much. El got me some water and stuff, so I'm okay now," he lied, hoping he wasn't too obvious.

"Yeah, he's okay now," El echoed, smiling innocently.

Nancy looked between the two of them, eyes narrowed, and then back over at the something behind them. She broke out into a grin, shaking her head.

"I won't blow your cover, you guys," she crossed her arms. "But El might want to get her underwear off the back of the toilet before you come back downstairs. I'll tell mom your story, that'll give you three more minutes to try and look less like you just banged."

Mike turned an unmistakable shade of red and both him and El looked at the pair of frilly panties that were rather obviously thrown across the back of the toilet. El had the decency to look apologetic and then Nancy turned and headed back downstairs.

He shut the door.

"How did you forget your _underwear?_ " he asked, not angry but definitely embarrassed.

"I… I'm sorry," she squeaked, reclaiming the damning evidence of their lie.

She walked back to him but then paused, blinking down at the panties and then up at his face. Instead of putting them back on, she tucked them into his pant's pocket and then smiled cutely, knowing he would be speechless.

"Thanks for teaching me that lesson, Mike," she beamed before turning and opening the bathroom door, flouncing out of without another word and heading back to the dinner table.

He stared after her, feeling stunned at the realization that she was teasing him _again_. How was he supposed to sit through the rest of the dinner knowing she wasn't wearing panties? But that was the point…

Biting down a grin, he followed her, deciding to just be grateful for how amazing she was.

It was Thanksgiving, after all.

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 ** _AN:_**

 ** _Still taking requests too. I don't do underage or anything really kinky but situations or places are definitely a help since I'm pretty uninspired lately. Let me know what you thought._**

 ** _~Wyn_**


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